


Flowers of Particular Import

by Drpepperly



Series: Love Like an Oasis in this Desert [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Arabian AU, Budding Romance, Flowers, M/M, minor children characters, possible pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drpepperly/pseuds/Drpepperly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kindaichi enjoys children, routine, and spending time with Kunimi. Kunimi enjoys bartering, the color violet, and spending time with Kindaichi. They both enjoy the delicate blossoms that manage to exist in the heat their city lives in and the events these unassuming flowers happen to bring about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers of Particular Import

**Author's Note:**

> So it's late, I'm tired, I can't seem to remember how to tag or write a summary, and this has little to no plot. I just really wanted to write more of this AU even if it isn't particularly comprehensible. Also I guess I'm making this AU a thing and will probably write more of it. 
> 
> Send me some writing prompts of what you'd like to see written over at my blog, cay-pepper.tumbler.com I'll accept any rating and most ships so ya know whatever

The air is warm as they descend the steps from the palace to the street below. Even as the moon rises into the sky the sounds of the city resound strong into Kindaichi’s ears; it is softer than midday of course, but still a rebellion to the ever-muffling sands just outside the city walls. Perhaps that rebellion is instead to the omnipresent void above that threatens to consume all light not already in its arsenal. It matters not to the pair trekking to the market below for their path is assuredly lit by the palace braziers and the glowing streets below.

They follow their routine to a T. Kunimi steps off to mingle with the merchants, most of whom are just starting to pack up their wares for the night, Kunimi finds that this is the best time to get a good price and, coupled with the male’s already shrewd business sense, often comes back with more than a few odds and ends. Kindaichi finds it best to leave his friend to his own, not entirely comfortable in the seedier areas of the market that Kunimi delights in as most of those merchants prefer not to deal with palace guards. Thus Kindaichi watches as Kunimi’s back vanishes into the crowd, slightly apprehensive yet well aware the steward can handle himself.

Soon enough Kindaichi finds himself surrounded by his usual crowd as well; the children in the market all flocking to him as he takes those last few steps into the marketplace. He heeds their cries to come play with them without an ounce of reluctance, ever weak to those innocent eyes and pudgy cheeks. He leaves his sword behind with the only merchant he trusts, a mother of one of the kids he plays with, and is off chasing the ball that is in the game being played this balmy night. He immerses himself in the game, in the chatter, in the air.

The children, with due cause, adore Kindaichi. The guard tells them tales of far off places and heroes. He indulges their whims without question, content with every rule change and even game change. They come to him with inquiries and demands and tales, he listens to each with rapt attention. Kindaichi makes them feel as if the parts they play and lives they live matter just as much as the adults they are surrounded by. He is also conveniently susceptible to the suggestion of buying them sweets and trinkets.

Kindaichi carries on with the children as the night grows older and watches them get swooped off by parents in ones and twos. His playtime with the children ends as it often does as he escorts the youngest back to her mother, the merchant he trusts with his sword, and waves the pair off with a promise to bring the girl a flower from the palace gardens tomorrow. The timing is a tad off tonight, Kunimi not waiting for him by the stairs with his haul for the night, so Kindaichi takes a seat on ivory steps he’ll have to climb up before the sun greets the horizon. He’s content to watch the last few merchants close up shop while waiting, indulging in thoughtlessness for a bit. His indulgence doesn’t last though; instead he catches sight of a flash of violent against the dusky streets.

The violet turns out to be echinops, the remaining product of a flower girl who welcomes his coin in return for the spare orbs. The color is pretty even if the flowers themselves are a bit wilted from the day’s heat, though he usually prefers them in white. Violet however happens to be Kunimi’s favorite color, a fact anyone could guess from the room they share, which is decorated mainly in varying shades of the color. He settles again on the steps, now with his flowers, and waits for Kunimi to emerge from the darkening streets so they can go home. As he waits he observes the orbs in his hand, so vibrant yet dark at the same time, seeming to swallow light and then effuse it in return. In an odd way it reminds him of Kunimi’s eyes, which absorb all around him and emit a knowledge of the world Kindaichi will likely never have. He’s probably odd for thinking such things anyways; most people say Kunimi merely looks bored.

“Those are pretty,” a familiar voice states, and Kindaichi finds Kunimi standing before him. He looks as if he’s been standing there longer than Kindaichi would hope, firmly settled with his shopping bag slung over one shoulder rather than at his side. Kindaichi finds himself jumping up in surprise at the other boy’s presence, nearly bashing their heads together in the process, “Oh my, were you thinking something embarrassing, Kindaichi?”

Kindaichi huffs out a no and reaches out to take Kunimi’s bag out of habit as they begin the ascent back to the palace. He’s sure Kunimi’s not going to drop the subject since Kindaichi was clearly flustered by his arrival, but thankfully the other stays quiet until they reach a point in between guard postings. That also means it’s more or less dimly lit so it’s challenging to make expressions out accurately.

“So what were you thinking about?”

He’s well aware that at this point it’s nearly impossible for him to lie convincingly to Kunimi, the other knows his tells. He settles instead for half-truths, “I was just thinking about flowers, nothing of any import.”

“I see. They’re nice flowers,” Kunimi offers, refusing to let Kindaichi settle it with a dismissal. Kindaichi doesn’t respond besides a hum of agreement, however he’s aware Kunimi expects more than that as the silence between the stretches.

Kindaichi stops as the lights of the next guard posting begin to draw near; Kunimi notices after a few seconds and stops as well just enough steps up that they’re almost at exactly the same level. He gazes into those hooded eyes that reveal so much more than boredom and extends the hand grasping the echinops into the space between them. The light of the moon hits Kunimi just right, illuminating his full lashes and the puzzled quirk off his pale lips, it makes Kindaichi’s stomach summersault in an increasingly unpleasant way.

“Actually, I bought them for you.”

The statement hangs for a moment, alongside Kindaichi’s outstretched hand and Kunimi’s barely parted lower lip. Then that lower lip arches upward just a touch, gracing Kindaichi with a sight most people of the palace have only seen once or twice. Kunimi smiles at him, in that subtle, intimate way of his that makes Kindaichi feel the need to check his own neck for a pulse, and takes the flowers offered to him.

“They’re lovely,” He breathes, lifting them to take in the perfume they give off. Those eyes flicker back to Kindaichi as he lowers them again and Kindaichi isn’t sure if the slight flush on Kunimi’s cheeks is actually there or if it’s wishful thinking, “Thank you, Kindaichi.”

Kunimi opts to show his gratitude as well, leaning forward just a touch and letting those pale petal lips brush against Kindaichi’s tan skin. Then the boy turns around, continuing up the steps and leaving behind him a stunned assistant-captain of the guard clutching at a violet shopping bag in one hand while the other reaches up to see if he really has been burned or if this heat spreading through him from his cheek is all in his head. No burn marks his cheek, but he thinks perhaps he’s been thoroughly branded anyway, may have been from the second he encountered those dusky eyes.


End file.
